


The Petty Bourgeois

by Eggpants



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Homophobia, Slurs, Transphobia, a real bruh moment, right wing monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27114577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggpants/pseuds/Eggpants
Summary: The lion learns not to concern quemself with the opinions of sheep.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	The Petty Bourgeois

"Come in," said Ancap, momentarily looking away from the series of charts and graphs which covered his five monitors. When the door opened, he let out a sigh.

"Hey Ancap," greeted the extremist at the door with a hint of nervousness.

"Ancom," he responded, faking a smile. “How can I help you?" He was already starting to get annoyed; these statistics weren't going to do themselves. 

"Uh…" The fellow anarchist struggled to make eye contact. "Well… I… there's something I wanted to tell you, uh-"

"I would prefer you send all correspondences to my business email."

"I actually sent a message a few days ago, but you, uh, didn't respond, so I decided to tell you in person."

"Well then, spit it out! I don't have all day. Time is money, you know."

"Money that you stole from your child sweatshop workers…" 

"Let me give you a little business lesson, Ancom. It's a dog eat dog, rat eat rat world out there. If my competitor were drowning, I would walk right up and stick a hose right in his mouth. It’s eat or be eaten, and you aren't going to get anywhere in this world if you're some special snowflake."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're my competitor right now, Ancom. You're competing for my precious time, of which one minute is worth far more than your entire pitiful existence. So tell me, why should I listen to some pinko commie whine about his feelings when I have far more important things to do?"

"Well, I- that's the thing."

"What is?"

"I.. I'm actually nonbinary. And my pronouns are qui/quem So please don’t use he/him anymore.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and then there was a bout of hideous laughter.

"What's so funny?" Qui snapped.

"Are you sure you're not authleft, Ancom?!" he snorted. "Or maybe orange libleft is more fitting…"

"What are you talking about?!" qui huffed. 

"Oh Ancom," he chuckled. "You have the right to identify as whatever you want, but I have the right to freedom of speech. Don't you think it's a little authoritarian of you to try to force me to use these absurd pronouns?"

“Shut the fuck up, you closet fascist! You’ve clearly been spending too much time on politicalcompassmemes! Or should I say politicalNAZImemes!” qui yelled.

He chortled again. “Are you triggered? This is why I can’t work with you left ‘libertarians’. Your whole ideology is an oxymoron.”

"I- I- you- wow- I-"

"Bitch what? Speak. Spit it the fuck out. What do you want to say? I'm listening. We're all waiting, and you're doing nothing. This is nonsense, you can't even use words anymore. Go the hell outside for once damn, goddamn, get a job or something."

But alas, by the time Ancap had finished reciting the copypasta, qui had already stormed out of the room. He breathed a sigh of relief; that pesky nuisance was finally out of his hair. 

‘What’s going on in here?”

He sighed again. His hair wasn’t ready for another pesky nuisance so soon after the previous one. “That’s none of your concern, Na-, sorry, I mean Identitarian.”

“I heard you talking about me."

"That was Ancom. He wasn't talking about you, he was just getting upset that I won't call him 'qui/quem'."

An evil grin crept across Nazi's face. "So he's one of those…" he paused for dramatic effect. "Attack helicopters?"

The two rightists erupted in thunderous laughter. There are some jokes that just never get old, in fact, they seem to get even more hilarious every time.

"Oh, this is just too good," smirked Identitarian. "There’s nothing I love more than trampling degenerate soyboy numale beta cucks under the heel of the state. And now that he’s not only a faggot, but a tranny as well… There are just so many possibilities,” he mused, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You know Ancap, there are some truly fascinating statistics about these ‘transgenders’...”

Meanwhile, Ancom was sulking in quis room while trying to think of some witty comebacks to use against Ancap. Quis volume was turned up to 100%, and qui had “True Trans Soul Rebel” on loop. Qui had hoped the other libertarian would understand, especially after months of trying to subtly indoctrinate him with gender abolitionist propaganda during their 4 AM weed smoking sessions. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have worked.

“Anarkitty!”

Qui looked up to see, who else, Tankie. He was probably going to bug quem about the latest obscure Marxist-Leninist philosopher qui just had to read. At least Tankie was supportive of quem - or at the very least not unsupportive. Qui didn’t need external validation, of course. Qui could hardly expect people, especially chuds, to abandon their lifetime of indoctrination into the gender-industrial complex so quickly. But it was kind of nice to have one person who wasn’t either dismissive or openly contemptuous of quis identity.

“Anarkitty!”

Qui took out one of quis earbuds. “What do you want?”

“You really should turn down the volume on that, comrade. I wouldn’t want you to damage your hearing. I’ve been standing here calling your name for the past five minutes.”

Qui rolled quis eyes. “Well, I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Doing what?” 

“I’m reading Gagon.”

“Gagon? What’s that?” Commie asked naively.

“Gagon a dick!” Ancom giggled. “I can’t believe you fell for that Tankie. Anyway fuck off.”

The authoritarian laughed. “That was a good one, comrade. But seriously. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” qui mumbled.

“Don’t lie, Anarkitty. I can tell something is bothering you. You can talk to me.”

Qui sighed, pausing quis music and removing quis earbuds. “I can see you’re not gonna go away anytime soon, so I guess I’ll tell you.”

Tankie excitedly nudged forward, like a 4th grade girl at recess about to hear which cootie-ridden boy her best friend has a crush on. 

“Ancap’s being a little bitch boy. He’s such a fake anarchist. He doesn’t even care about abolishing hierarchies! He’s a piece of shit.”

“Of course he is, he’s a kulak. What did he do?”

“He said I was authoritarian just because I want him to use my pronouns.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being authoritarian, comrade,” smiled Tankie. 

Qui shot him a glare.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Anyway, I should have known he would be reactionary but it’s just so annoying. I guess I can’t expect the whole world to understand the nuances of queer theory but it would be so much easier if they did, you know?"

"Well, Ancom, I think your time would be better spent reading Lenin instead of wallowing in your own misery. There's nothing like a good bit of communist theory to cheer you up and get you back in the revolutionary spirit."

"Oh, shut the fuck up Tankie."

"Well, what are you accomplishing by sitting here and complaining about your bourgeois identity politics? The working class is suffering under the tyranny of American capitalism and imperialism. If you really want to make a difference, you have to build the revolution. You cannot allow yourself to become the slave of your own childish emotions."

Qui didn't quite know what to say. "That's just, like, your opinion, man," qui muttered after a few moments of stunned silence. 

"If you read theory, you would understand that all of these identities are just ways to divide the proletariat. You believe that your identity is revolutionary, but in reality you are pointlessly flailing under the thumb of the bourgeoisie. Society still views you as a man. You have to abandon your sectarian identity politics and use what power you have to further our movement."

"Hey Tankie, quick question. Why are you doing this?"

He placed a not-so-comforting hand on the anarchist's shoulder. "I want to help you, Anarkiddy. You will be happier if you stop worrying about bourgeois constructs and join the revolution."

"You're really not helping," qui retorted, removing Commie's hand. "In fact, you're actually making things worse."

"When you are older, you'll understand. Right now you are going through a phase. You want to rebel, but you don't understand what it is you should rebel against. You want attention. You want to push the envelope, but you don't want any pushback for it. You are like a teenager. But you have great potential, Anarkiddy, if only you would read theory."

"You think I haven't read theory?" Qui snapped. "Maybe you're the one that should read theory, you fucking class reductionist. Why do you think you're so much better than me??"

Tankie opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, qui interrupted him.

"You know what, I don't give a shit. Get the fuck out of my room and leave me alone, you red fascist."

"Anarkiddy-"

"Go!"

Qui put quis music back on, but qui hadn't even gotten through the chorus yet when the door creaked open.

"Go away," qui said coldly without even looking up.

"Nah," replied Nazi, peaking his head through the crack. "You know, Ancap told me about your new pronouns."

"Okay, and?"

"I just wanted to pop by and say that I stand in solidarity with you. I identify as a HP LaserJet printer myself."

Qui couldn't even bring quemself to feel angry. All qui felt was mild contempt. "Wow, really? What are your pronouns?"

"I dunno, ‘qui/quem’, why don't you invent some new ones just for me?"

"Honestly Nazi, if you're going to be a bigot, at least try to be clever about it. I've seen some much better lines in the comments of fascists' youtube videos. Also you’re the first person who’s used my pronouns without me even needing to correct them so congratulations on being woke,” qui smirked.

He looked a little hurt. "Are you insulting my insult skills, tranny? I just thought I'd go a little easy on you since you're already so pathetic."

"Oooh, bringing out the slurs, are you straggot?"

The fascist was clearly starting to get frustrated. "Listen here, you degenerate. You are a disgusting mentally ill freak. Everyone around you knows this and the only reason you haven’t been thrown out of society like a piece of rotten meat is because the libcuck Jewish media has brainwashed everyone. Throughout the course of human history, Aryans like me have been the builders of civilization while degenerates like you have been the instruments of its destruction. Some say a society falls when it is conquered by another which is stronger. Some say a society falls when it loses its leader. But why draw the line there? The truth is that all the great empires of the past fell when they stopped stoning faggots.” Satisfied with this line, he paused for a moment to allow Ancom to appreciate it.

“But you know Ancom, I don’t hate you because you’re a queer. I hate you because you have allowed yourself to fall into the clutches of useless hedonism, throwing away the potential that you may once have had. In another life, perhaps, you could have been a part of my movement. But you have allowed these disgusting leftist ideologies to get inside your head and groom you into the disgusting race traitor you are. You always talk about freedom, yet you are a slave to your own repulsive desires. You’ll do anything for the approval of the barbarians, but that won’t stop them from breaking down the walls and raiding your village the moment they get the opportunity. So you have to make a choice: will you continue to turn a blind eye as they build up their ranks, or will you take up arms and defend yourself?”

Qui laughed. “If the village I’m supposed to be protecting is a fascist authoritarian shithole, then let the ‘barbarians’ burn it down.”

“That’s all you have to say? After I spent all that time monologuing?” Nazi folded his arms across his chest. “You just don’t have anything worthwhile to say because you know I’m right. You’ve let (((them))) brainwash you into being a soyboy cuck.” With that last remark, the authoritarian capitalist slammed the door shut and marched off.

Ancom was free to sulk once more; however, qui didn’t feel so angry anymore. Interacting with “Identitarian” usually had the opposite effect, but for once qui couldn’t bring quemself to care. While Nazi was ranting, qui had come to the important conclusion that qui want or need the approval of fascists - not even the ones masquerading as something else. Qui picked up quis phone and skipped to the next song on the playlist: “Britney Spears - USSR National Anthem.” Now qui could finally begin on something worthwhile - a poem that qui would regret showing Tankie in the next two days, but that qui would nonetheless be proud of.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm, I wonder which character the author is projecting onto. (its ancap)
> 
> Sometimes you just overestimate the efficacy of your rhetorical strategies & get a bit of a shock, happens to the best of us I suppose
> 
> (sadly the monologues i had to come up with myself. why should i care that im the scourge of society if you dont seem to, like bruh, step it up now)


End file.
